


Fathers and Sons

by wesleyfanfiction_archivist



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-07-08
Updated: 2005-07-08
Packaged: 2018-05-31 10:29:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6466756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wesleyfanfiction_archivist/pseuds/wesleyfanfiction_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"What was silent in the father speaks in the son, and often I found in the son the unveiled secret of the father."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fathers and Sons

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Versaphile, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [WesleyFanfiction.net](http://fanlore.org/wiki/WesleyFanFiction.Net). Deciding that it needed to have a more long-term home, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in February 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact the e-mail address on [WesleyFanfiction.net collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/wesleyfanfiction/profile).

**The Baby**

The nurse led him into the tastefully expensive private room. 

“Mrs Wyndam-Pryce is just resting.” 

She smoothed the blanket, tweaked the corner skillfully. Then she leaned over the cradle next to the bed. 

“Baby’s awake, though.” The air of professional detachment disappeared as she smiled up at him.

“Congratulations, Mr Wyndam-Pryce.”

He stepped over to the cot, where the baby lay. He held his hand out and the infant’s tiny fingers curled around his finger reflexively. 

So perfect, a tiny miracle.

Roger Wyndam-Pryce held his son’s hand and vowed that he would not make the mistakes his father had made.

 

**The Boy**

The grandfather clock chimed twice, and he rubbed his hand over his eyes, dragged himself away from the translation. He closed the journal, glanced over to the smaller desk by the window. The boy’s books were still open there.

_The boy._ He’d forgotten.

He patted his waistcoat pocket, fished the key out, then stepped into the hall. Unlocked the door.

“Out, please.”

The boy obeyed him, moving stiffly. Roger touched his son’s shoulder, and felt him flinch at the brief contact.

“Wesley, these things have to be done.” 

He managed to keep the regret out of his voice quite successfully.

 

**Head Boy**

He put the letter down, cleared his throat. Wesley was standing before the desk, hands folded behind his back. 

“You seem to have impressed your teachers, boy.”

“I – I did my best.” Wesley’s voice faltered a little.

“I expected nothing less.” Roger stood, turned away from his son to face the window. “It’s a great honour to be chosen as Head Boy.”

“Yes, Father,” Wesley said, with a fervour borne of desperation.

“See that you don’t let yourself down, then.” Roger waved his hand in dismissal, and hoped that Wesley had not detected the note of jealousy in his voice.

 

**The Watcher**

“Congratulations, Roger. You must be very proud.” Travers raised his glass in toast.

Roger returned the gesture halfheartedly. “The Council made its decision based on the available candidates.” 

“Oh, come now, no false modesty. You’ve been training the boy for this since he was born.” There was only the thinnest veneer of politeness in Travers’ voice now. “Another Wyndam-Pryce as active Watcher. Following in his grandfather’s footsteps.”

_“Your misjudgment in Vienna cost the lives of two of your team, as well as three innocent children. Think yourself lucky you haven’t been fired.”_

Roger nodded, gave a small tight smile. “Indeed.”


End file.
